


Perception

by Lynse



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Gray Ghost, I play with the AU okay, Identity Reveal, Reveal, Soulmate AU, Soulmate AU - Colors, Soulmate AU - Colours, despite the implications of the first scene no one dies, except in a world where Valerie still knows Danny, finding each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22085563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynse/pseuds/Lynse
Summary: Valerie always took seeing colour for granted—until the day it went away.
Relationships: Danny Fenton/Valerie Gray
Comments: 32
Kudos: 404
Collections: Favorite Danny Phantom fics





	Perception

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avearia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avearia/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Avearia! You wanted a soulmate colours AU with Gray Ghost, and I swear once you get past the angst, happy endings exist. Standard disclaimers apply.

Valerie couldn’t remember a world without colour.

She hadn’t realized that she was different from anyone else at first. She hadn’t realized, for instance, that she saw _colour_ where Star and Paulina and the rest of her friends did not. She had thought that perhaps _colour_ was something different, something _more_.

She didn’t realize she’d had something to lose, not something to gain, until one afternoon the summer before grade nine. Between one blink and the next, the wondrous thing she now realized was _colour_ vanished. Everything was _less_. Dull, bland, bleak, faded.

Washed out.

Forever.

The realization—the _implication_ —caught her breath in her throat and spilled out as tears from her eyes.

Despite the vastness of the world, despite the fact that she had barely travelled outside of Amity Park, she had already met her soulmate—and they had died before she’d ever had a chance to know who they were.

She might be able to have a happy life with a similar unfortunate soul, but it would never be on the level it could have been, had she found her soulmate before this. Had she been able to be with them before all this, maybe even prevented their death.

But now they were gone, and there was nothing she could do except scan the obituaries in the coming days to see if she could find someone who was unclaimed. If she couldn’t find someone, or if there was more than one— She’d never know.

She’d never know who her soulmate was supposed to be.

Never know what life she should have had.

The light they had brought her had gone out of the world, taking the wondrous array of colours with it.

Valerie wiped at her eyes, but tears still turned the world into a swirl of grey. She didn’t know how long she cried, aching from a loss she’d never fully known. At some point she’d moved to her bed, burying herself in blankets as if imagining all the colour and light in her world were still there, would be there again once she let herself out of her self-imposed darkness, but she couldn’t bring herself to look.

When her father got home and found her, she couldn’t force the words past her throat and explain.

But it was the anniversary of the day her mother had died, the day her father had lost _his_ soulmate, and he thought there was nothing more to explain.

They sat in silence, and Valerie eventually fell asleep.

-|-

When Valerie woke, she opened her eyes to colour.

She didn’t understand it. She _knew_ she hadn’t just dreamt its absence yesterday, yet….

Yet it was back, inexplicably but undeniably. She’d never heard of colour returning. It exploded into being the moment you met your soulmate, and it disappeared with death, extinguished with the other’s final breath.

She picked up the paper each day after her father had read it, just in case, but she recognized none of the names in the obits, and every person whose date of death matched her experience already had a soulmate.

By the end of the week, she very carefully, very _strategically_ , wondered aloud if anyone had ever found colour again after the loss of their soulmate. Her heart leapt when Damon told her he’d heard stories of such things, though he hadn’t experienced it himself or personally knew of someone to which it had happened. But as he kept talking, explaining that colour grew into the worlds of those living with and loving someone other than their soulmate, that the richness of the hues deepened as their bonds grew stronger, even if they would never reach the vibrancy of a true soulmate, the sinking feeling in her chest returned.

She hadn’t needed to go back out into the world and meet someone before the colour had come back to her.

Whatever had happened was different.

-|-

It didn’t take Valerie long to realize that the colour was unstable. Between one breath and the next, it could vanish entirely. Sometimes, the world became filtered, bleached but not entirely devoid of colour. As far as she could tell, there was no rhyme or reason to it. No schedule, no pattern, nothing set off by her action or inaction or even her thoughts.

She was getting used to it. She wasn’t jerking like she first had, and she’d only screamed the first time the colour had disappeared again. It wasn’t giving her a headache any longer, either; sometimes, if the colour wasn’t there or wasn’t right, she simply imagined it as she knew it should be. It helped. Somewhat.

Not enough to keep her father from worrying, nor her friends and teachers.

She began to lie.

She didn’t know the truth, but she knew it had something to do with her soulmate.

She just didn’t know what.

Even if they were dying, lying in a hospital somewhere, balanced between life and death…. It should have settled by now, one way or another. It had been a month.

When the ghost attacks began, Valerie wasn’t as scared as she knew she should be. When her world turned grey again, it was nothing she hadn’t experienced before. The ghost attacks were new, of course, but she was already dealing with one impossible, inexplicable problem. Ghosts turning up in town when she knew Fenton’s parents were ghost hunters was hardly unexpected.

She hadn’t expected the supposed town hero to ruin her life, though.

And she definitely hadn’t expected to see his eyes blazing green when she first encountered him, nor to begin seeing shades of the same colour afterwards even when the rest of the world was grey.

It was enough to stay her initial swell of hatred long enough to listen to him. She didn’t regret it. As it turned out, she really hadn’t known the entire story. Of course, she suspected Phantom wasn’t telling her everything, but she thought she might be able to earn his trust and hear the rest eventually.

And it made her want to help him, if only in her own way.

Ghost hunting seemed like a sound enough release of her frustration at the hand she’d been dealt. It would keep her sharp, keep her fit, and—even if she planned to remain masked—give her the satisfaction of playing the hero.

Doing something to protect her town, like her dad had.

It had taken her a while to convince Phantom to train her. He kept trying to tell her to go talk to Maddie Fenton—something about Jack’s aim being terrible—and tried to tell her that he wouldn’t always be there to protect her. But that was the point. He wouldn’t be. Which was why she wanted to be able to defend herself.

He gave her his thermos and let her practice on him, but she wanted more and made sure he knew it.

When he first handed her a Fenton Lipstick, she raised an eyebrow at him. He knew her question without her having to voice it. “You need an ecto-weapon if you’re going on the offensive,” he said, “and that’s small and easy to use. It’s a good starting point.” 

It was a good starting point—point and shoot, lightweight, no recoil—but between persistence and practice, it didn’t take her long to master it. (Her words, not his. He thought she could be more precise—not just hit the target but hit the target exactly where she wanted to.) She wanted field training. He didn’t want her out on her own, yet he refused to go with her, claiming he wouldn’t be able to protect her.

He didn’t seem to understand that that was the point.

Months later, when he presented her with more stolen FentonWorks tech, she took the ecto-gun without question. She knew what the gift meant. He finally thought she was ready for an actual fight, and she didn’t plan on proving him wrong.

-|-

She didn’t have the nerve to bring up the subject of soulmates until much later, on a surprisingly calm summer night that found them both on their backs in the grass in the darkest part of the park, looking up at the sky.

Her world was a strange mix of filtered colour now, greens and purples jumping out with easy brilliance while other colours were trapped in prisons of grey. Sometimes they all returned, but they no longer all disappeared. She didn’t know what that meant—or if it even meant anything.

Phantom was a ghost—a coherent ghost, unlike some she’d met with him by her side—and while he was probably too young to have found his soulmate before the end, he might know some stories. He might know the solution to her problem.

Or the reason she had it in the first place.

“Phantom,” she said hesitantly, “have you ever seen colour?”

He was quiet for a moment, knowing what that question meant, and she thought he might not answer her at all—or laugh it off if he did and make some joke. Instead, he whispered, “Yes.” She turned her head to look at him, his soft glow making his features easy to pick out, but he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the stars above. “I always thought dying severed that connection between people, and it does, sort of. My world isn’t as colourful as it used to be. It’s…dulled, I guess.”

She pushed herself into a more upright position to get a better look at his face and repeated, “Dulled?” It didn’t sound like her world—so many colours were just gone altogether—but….

“They’re still there,” he explained, finally flicking his eyes to her and then pushing himself into a sitting position. She mirrored him, fully sitting up even as he turned his gaze down to his hands, fiddling with his fingers and tugging at his gloves. “All the colours. They’re just…washed out or faded or something. Mostly. I think…. I think spending so much time here might have helped me get some of it back. There aren’t a lot of ghosts who see in colour. Most…most are separated from their soulmates, if they ever found them.”

“And you’re not?”

He laughed. It sounded…bitter. Harsh. She wasn’t used to it. It was so unlike his usual light laugh. “I’m a ghost, and I think my soulmate is still alive. How much more separation can you get?”

“You think they’re still alive.” The words tightened something her chest and settled unpleasantly in her gut, though she couldn’t explain why. “Your soulmate is still out there, and you don’t know who they are.” It wasn’t the same with her. She knew her soulmate was gone; she’d have a happy approximation of it at best, and that’s all she allowed herself to want, except in her darker moments when she wondered what could have been. But Phantom…. “We can try to find them, you know.” It was harder to say those words, to make that offer, than she’d expected. “You’re a ghost, but…. You could at least be _friends_ with them, right? Even if they’ll want to find someone else?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Finding them, I mean.”

Relief flooded her at those words, but the look on his face tempered it. He was afraid. Afraid, no doubt, of how his soulmate would react to the news. Of ruining their life with news of his afterlife. He still wanted the best for them, even though he didn’t know who they were. He was willing to spend his afterlife alone so he wouldn’t taint the happiness he assumed they’d find without him.

Valerie wasn’t much of a hugger, but she leaned over and wrapped her arms around Phantom anyway. He was stiff for a few terrified seconds before relaxing into her grip. He was more solid than she remembered, and…warmer, somehow, than he’d ever felt when he’d grabbed her to pull her out of harm’s way.

It was…nice.

She only felt a few tears soak into her shirt before the weight of him vanished from her grip and he was hovering above her. “I should go,” he said, his voice thick. He wiped at his eyes. “I…. I’ll do another quick patrol. You can go home.”

He vanished before she could find the words to protest.

Valerie had no way of stopping him, no way of tracking him back down, and instead flopped back down into the grass and stared back up at the starry sky.

She hadn’t noticed the transition, but she could pick out blues again—most evident by the clouds that threatened to obscure the moon—and she knew that meant something.

Her soulmate…. Something had changed. Getting better, perhaps? Maybe it had been a terrible accident, and they’d died on the operating table or something and been brought back to life, and now they were just…in a coma. Or something.

Except that didn’t explain why sometimes her vision was perfectly normal, as it always used to be.

And it didn’t explain why she hadn’t found any answers in the newspapers or online—be it in obits or the local news—when an accident that severe would’ve been reported on in a town as small as this.

She was still missing something.

And Phantom….

She didn’t know what to think about Phantom.

She should help him reconnect with his soulmate. It was the right thing to do, whether or not he could see it. They’d both be happier for it. If nothing else, it would give his soulmate some closure.

But she felt _awful_ when she realized how happy she’d felt when he’d refused the idea. She treasured this time alone with him. If he found his soulmate again, that would change. It would have to change. And she didn’t want it to. She liked how things were, just the two of them.

She…cared for him.

More than she wanted to admit.

Even to herself.

-|-

The first time she saw red was the following fall. It wasn’t the autumn leaves that burst into brilliance around her; she’d have been too focused on the ghost fight to notice that. Trouble was, she hadn’t been focused enough. She’d made a mistake. She’d slipped on the ghost ice underfoot and went down.

She’d rolled, but she hadn’t been quite fast enough, and neither had he.

The ice shard only clipped her arm—she’d nearly dodged it, whatever he said—but it easily tore through her shirt and the fragile skin beneath. It had stung, sure, but she’d found her feet again and kept fighting. She hadn’t thought it was bad. She hadn’t even realized it was bleeding.

He’d managed to end the fight soon after that, finding strength and beating up the ice ghost she’d never seen before with an anger he usually managed to keep buried beneath bad puns. And when he came to her side, the first thing to fall from his lips was an apology. It wasn’t until he actually had both hands pressed to her arm that she finally felt the full force of the pain.

That’s when she’d noticed the red stain on her sleeve, visible even beneath his gloves, and realized she could feel every throbbing heartbeat.

“I think you need stitches,” he said. She could hear the underlying panic in his voice; he thought this was bad and didn’t want to say it more bluntly than he had to. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Her dad would kill her if he found out what she was doing—well, not really, but he’d ground her until graduation. And their insurance wouldn’t cover this. Assuming they still _had_ insurance after everything that had happened. “Just take me home. It’ll be fine.”

Phantom frowned at her.

“No hospitals,” she repeated.

“Then I’m taking you to FentonWorks,” he said.

She was too surprised to protest when he scooped her up. “What? Why there?”

“Mo—Maddie’s good at stitches. Better than Jazz. And even Sam. And…and I’m not sure I could keep a steady hand right now.”

Valerie knew Phantom was teaching the basics of ghost hunting to Sam and Tucker, too, (Danny presumably got enough of that from his parents) but he never wanted her to go along with them. He claimed it was because it would be too draining for all of them to be out all the time, that it was more effective for them to take turns going out because they had grades to maintain and homework to do and she had her job at the Nasty Burger, but she’d always gotten the feeling that he didn’t want her out with them. That it wasn’t a matter of safety or consideration for how much sleep they got or free time they had. That it wasn’t simply that he thought her worse, and needing the one-on-one time, or better, and able to handle more on her own. It was…something else.

Something he wasn’t saying.

Or something she wasn’t saying. Or doing. Or seeing. Something she didn’t _know_.

It wouldn’t bother her if she didn’t have the feeling that she was missing something. She liked having Phantom to herself, relishing the times it was just the two of them and they were relaxing together on a slow night. But the way he avoided her gaze whenever she brought it up….

Maybe it was just that Phantom didn’t want any of them overworked. And maybe Danny wanted Phantom to teach his friends instead of them being taught by his parents so he didn’t get roped into more ghost hunting when he didn’t like it, but for Phantom to just go directly to FentonWorks and not intend to sneak in for something….

“It’s too dangerous!” she finally forced out, but he ignored her and starting flying. It was fine at first, and then he started going fast, _too_ fast, and—

He turned them intangible before she could say something, and she instead had the disquieting sensation of knowing that the tearing wind went right through her.

She shut her eyes and leaned into him, not trying to talk. She didn’t really want to fight him on this; he had a better eye for injuries than she did. He’d been doing this for longer. And even if he healed faster, he got hit worse, far too frequently, and remembered too much of human life to misjudge this for that reason.

He still might be overreacting, but that would be…sweet, sort of. And his concern might lead to more one-on-one sessions, which would be nice. Not that she didn’t want to hunt alongside Sam and Tucker one day, she did, but…. She liked having Phantom to herself. Just the two of them, patrolling the town, fighting ghosts. Or stargazing. Or just talking. Making jokes and telling stories and enjoying each other’s company.

She opened her eyes when he shifted her and she felt cloth beneath her. He’d laid her down on a couch. The Fentons’ living room? He’d just…barged in here? The home of ghost hunters? For her?

“I’ll find Maddie,” he said, and he dove through the floor. Like he fully expected her to be in the lab even this late at night, like it didn’t even occur to him that she’d probably be in bed like most people.

Valerie stared at the spot where he’d disappeared, realizing exactly how much he was risking right now. How much he was _sacrificing_. For her.

She kept her good hand pressed over the wound, finally accepting why she could see the red staining her fingers for what it was.

Phantom might not be her soulmate, but he might as well be.

He brought more than just colour into her life.

As for her actual soulmate, well, she was still convinced they must have died that day, if only briefly, and something had severed their connection. She couldn’t think of any other way to explain the fickleness of the colour in her world. And just like she didn’t want to search for Phantom’s living soulmate, she didn’t want to continue the search for hers, either, half-hearted though it had been for far more than a few months.

She heard glass shatter in the basement, and her ears filled with the blaring sound of alarms, but they stopped a moment later. And then she heard footsteps on the stairs, a door opening and closing, and the soft pad of footsteps on linoleum. Phantom came into the living room with Maddie on his heels. He pointed at her and started to explain, lies and truths coming out of his mouth in equal measure, but Valerie didn’t try to keep track of it. All she saw were the phase-proof Fenton Cuffs snapped around his wrists.

He'd traded his freedom to make sure she’d be okay.

And it…it broke her heart.

“Please, you have to let him go,” she said, but her voice only came out as a whisper.

Maddie ignored her, instead calling for her husband to bring one of their first aid kits, and gently nudged away Valerie’s hand to get a better look at the wound.

Phantom hovered anxiously in her peripheral vision, never trying to escape. Not when Jazz stumbled down the stairs in her housecoat to see what was going on, not when Jack emerged from the basement with more than just the first aid kit and started scanning her for traces of ecto-contamination because her wound had been sustained in a ghost fight, not when Maddie was focused on stitching her up. (Valerie wasn’t going to ever tell Phantom he had been right about her needing stitches, but if he tried to gloat, she’d just say they were a precaution, nothing more.) He was still there when Maddie told her she was going to call Damon, and he was still there when Jazz brought her a different pillow and a couple of blankets.

He was gone when she woke in the morning, though the fact that Jack was absent from the breakfast table made Valerie wonder if he’d gotten free and was trying to lose Mr. Fenton or if he’d simply been taken downstairs for proper containment. She hoped it was the former.

The world felt bleak without him here, knowing he could be in danger because of what he’d given up for her, and her filtered vision seemed to match her mood. No cheery yellows or oranges this morning, though it seemed she could see the other colours well enough.

Valerie was halfway through a bowl of dry cereal (Jazz had warned her not to trust the milk) when she suddenly realized someone else was conspicuously absent. “Where’s Danny?” Really, she was surprised he hadn’t stumbled downstairs last night with his sister.

“Sleepover at Tucker’s,” Jazz said, overriding Maddie’s comment that Danny was still asleep. “Something about a science project.”

Valerie frowned. “We don’t have a project in science.”

“Maybe it was English, then.”

“But we don’t— Ow!” Valerie shot a glare at Jazz. “What was that for?”

“What was what for?” Jazz asked innocently, as if she hadn’t very deliberately kicked her house guest.

Whatever. Valerie got the hint. “You’ve gotta be thinking of the American Revolution one we have in history.” She didn’t know what Danny was really up to, but if Jazz was on board, it wasn’t going to be anything too bad. Probably doing some additional training with Sam and Tucker on the whole ghost hunting thing. She knew neither Fenton kid believed all ghosts were evil like their parents, and Danny was probably afraid that showing too much interest would get him dragged out on hunts to take out ghosts like Phantom—ghosts that didn’t deserve to be hunted down, whatever his parents believed.

She could understand how avoiding a family argument seemed like the more preferable option, especially on that front.

Jazz nodded. “Yes, that was it.” She had her spoon halfway to her mouth, but with a glance at her mom’s back, she set it back down in her bowl. “Why don’t I drive you home, Valerie? Save you the walk.”

Right, it was Saturday. She’d lost track. She checked her watch; her shift at the Nasty Burger didn’t start till two. More than enough time for her to track down Phantom if he wanted to be found, assuming he’d gotten free. She’d find some excuse to come back and save him if he hadn’t. She owed him that much. The idea of him being trapped because of her…. It didn’t bear thinking about. But she couldn’t hear him screaming, and that had to be a good sign.

“That’d be great, thanks,” she said, smiling at Jazz. Then, with a glance at Mrs. Fenton, “Assuming I’m free to go?” Maddie’s examination when she’d woken this morning had been cursory at best.

“I think you’ll be fine, sweetie,” Maddie said, looking over at them from the sink, “but I would appreciate you dropping by so I can check on it again. And I really don’t believe the tale Phantom told us yesterday, so I would also appreciate the truth of how you got that in the first place.”

“Right,” Valerie mumbled, quickly getting to her feet and picking up the bowl. “I’ll, um, yeah, when we have more time. I should really be going now.” She dropped the bowl on the counter next to the sink. “Thanks for everything, really.”

She fled, and Jazz followed her.

-|-

Valerie didn’t want to ask Jazz if she knew what had happened to Phantom right away; she needed to have something to tell Maddie before she showed her face at FentonWorks again, and if Phantom needed a rescue, Valerie would need to be armed with _something_ , even if it was only a clever distraction. She concentrated on the easier subject instead. Granted, the last thing she expected when she worked up the courage to ask was a real explanation.

“What’s up with the project excuse? Where’s Danny?”

Jazz pressed her lips together and signalled to turn left, even though Valerie had already told her to go right.

“Danny’s working through some stuff,” she said slowly. “He doesn’t want to tell Mom and Dad everything yet.”

“Ghost stuff?”

Jazz bit her lip. Valerie waited for the lie, even though she didn’t know why Jazz would lie about something that was obvious to anyone who knew the Fentons.

“He thinks he found his soulmate,” she said.

Valerie blinked.

If Jazz was going for a lie, why pick _that_ one? Most parents were _happy_ when their kids found their soulmates. There wasn’t any reason not to tell them…unless you thought they wouldn’t approve. Not that they would have much say in the matter. Soulmates trumped parents. And Valerie couldn’t imagine someone the _Fentons_ wouldn’t approve of.

“And he’s panicking?” she finally guessed. “Instead of being happy he can finally see in colour?”

“Not exactly. He’s just…. I think he’s known for a while, or at least suspected it. He hasn’t told it to me straight, either. I know more than Mom and Dad, but I’ve been guessing for a while. It wasn’t until recently that I realized that I’d finally guessed it right.”

“And?”

“And Danny’s Danny. He can struggle to talk to the people he cares about most. He shows his love through actions more often than words.”

Valerie frowned. She had a feeling Jazz was trying to hint at something, but she had no idea what it could be. “So where is he really, if he didn’t sleep over at Tucker’s?”

Jazz pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car before turning to Val. “He’s back in our lab, Valerie.”

“What?”

“Danny’s still in the lab. I can’t sneak him out when Mom and Dad are home. I need you to create a distraction.”

“Wait, what? Why’s Danny in your lab? Why do you have to sneak him out?”

Instead of answering, Jazz reached into her back seat and handed Valerie a package of firecrackers and a lighter.

Valerie stared at them and then looked out the window and realized that they were just down the block from FentonWorks. She turned back to Jazz. “You’re…you’re kidding, right? This is some kind of elaborate joke? Your parents wouldn’t just lock your brother up in the basement.”

“They wouldn’t knowingly lock him up,” Jazz agreed slowly, “but they don’t realize what they’ve done. He never told them, and they haven’t figured it out.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She had to be talking about something, hinting at it, but Valerie had no idea what it was supposed to be. She’d always gotten the impression that Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, while not necessarily the most attentive parents, meant well and loved their children. In a way that _didn’t_ involve locking them up. Sure, from the brief snippets of stories she overheard in the hallway, it didn’t sound like Danny and Jazz exactly lived in the safest environment, but—

“Danny hasn’t been the same since his accident just before the start of school last year.”

Valerie frowned. She couldn’t remember anything about an accident in the school rumour mill, and she’d been at the top of it back then. But the timing—

That was around the time her soulmate had—

She’d never found any report of an accident like the one she’d been looking for.

She’d never found an obituary that fit the few details she knew.

“What…what accident?” she breathed.

She’d been seeing colour for as long as she could remember.

She’d known Danny for as long as she could remember, knowing his face before she’d ever learned his name.

Something inside Valerie twisted, and when she blinked again, she could see the orange in Jazz’s hair, and her skin—and everything else—no longer looked like it had been put through a blue filter.

“Please just set off the firecrackers, Valerie.”

How could Jazz be so calm about all of this?

How could she sit there as if this were _normal_?

Valerie fumbled for her seat belt and then for the door handle. She had…. She couldn’t just sit here, and she wasn’t going to set off some stupid firecrackers. She had to know for sure. She didn’t…. She had to figure this out. She didn’t understand.

But if she saw him again, face to face, she’d know.

Even before she asked.

Even before he answered.

She’d know.

He’d be able to see the question in her eyes, and his expression would answer it for her.

Or maybe just the feeling she’d get when she saw him.

Not that she needed any of that for confirmation.

Not really.

Not now that the colour had fully returned to her, and she suddenly knew why it had been taken away and come back in pieces ever since.

She didn’t know how this could be normal. How it could be true. Except it was the Fentons, so maybe this was normal, for them.

Jazz caught up to her as she reached the front walkway of FentonWorks and pulled her to a stop. “Back entrance,” Jazz said, and this time Valerie listened. She followed Jazz around the house and inside to the kitchen as Jazz explained, “He’s in the large containment unit. You just need to hit the button on the side to release the lock. If that doesn’t work, just…. Tell him you know. He can walk you through it.”

“What…what about the distraction?” Jazz hadn’t brought the firecrackers, and Valerie suddenly felt like a fool for leaving them behind.

“I’ll be the distraction,” Jazz said, gently pushing her to the side of the basement door. And then she screamed, high-pitched wordless terror that made Valerie’s skin crawl. The moment they heard footsteps, she started running, her scream fading and then cutting off. She was out the front door ahead of Jack and Maddie, and all Valerie could make out was some vague wailing about a ghost.

None of them looked back.

Below, the lab seemed too quiet. She couldn’t hear anything beyond the dim buzz of machines. Her heart racing in her chest, and she kept a firm grip on the railing as she descended the stairs.

Phantom floated near the top of the containment cell—some kind of reinforced glass, if Valerie had to guess—but when he heard footsteps, he turned to look at her.

He didn’t bother to mask the surprise on his face. “Valerie?”

He looked fine. He sounded fine. He was trapped, but otherwise, he was fine.

  
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and approached the control panel. “Hey, Phantom. How do I get you out of this thing?” Jazz had said to hit the button, but there was more than one button. And she couldn’t read any labels with her world a sudden swirl of colour, blurred by unshed tears.

“Uh, I mean, I don’t know the specifics, but I think you just hit that one.” A blob of silver pointed to the button nearest to her. “The right one, not the big one on your left. The left is the flush, and I don’t really want to be sucked into the Ghost Zone right now.”

“Right. That would be awkward.” She didn’t sound like herself, but this didn’t feel real. She blinked and wiped the wetness from her cheeks.

“Are you okay, Val? Your wound—”

“I’m fine. It’s…it’s not that.”

“Then what is it? What can I do?”

It was everything. And he…he could hold her once she got him out of there. Reassure her that this was real. That it was happening.

“You can just be yourself,” she whispered, and she meant it. She squinted at the labels and hit a button. There was a hiss and then a faint pop. She looked up to see Phantom slipping out of a door in the top of the unit; the one at ground level was still sealed, as far as she could tell. A security measure, maybe, though she didn’t think it would matter where ghosts were concerned. She hadn’t met a ghost that couldn’t fly.

She blinked, and he was by her side, wide green eyes anxiously searching her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She felt like a fool for not recognizing his features before now, but she’d never seen Danny Fenton in anything less than full colour. And when her world had been thrust into black and white, she hadn’t thought to connect him to Phantom just because she was able to see Phantom’s green eyes. She hadn’t thought she had any reason to.

The truth was, she’d never looked.

All that time she’d spent with him, and she’d never realized it. How could she have not realized it? He was…. There was no denying who he was to her.

“How long have you known?” she whispered.

He frowned. “Known what?”

“You know what, Danny.”

He froze, maybe wondering exactly how much she knew, if he was mistaken about her knowing anything when he went by Danny Phantom when he was like this. She swallowed and didn’t break his gaze, and after a long second, he relaxed. “I’ve suspected it for a while,” he finally admitted. “And then, when you got hurt…. Val, I can’t lose you. The idea terrifies me. This—” he waved a hand at himself “—is bad enough, and…and not everyone becomes a ghost.”

“And you….” It sounded stupid, but she didn’t know how to ask it. “You really are a ghost. But then how are you…? How can you…?”

He took a step back from her. “It’s more like half ghost,” he said. He was giving her a nervous smile, and then there was a brilliant light, and when it was gone, Danny Fenton stood before her. The world seemed more vibrant than it had before. She hadn’t even realized the colours could be richer. “See? Human.” He stuck out his hand, but she wrapped him in a hug instead.

He was solid, like he’d promised, and warmer than Phantom had been, and—

“I know this is a lot,” he was saying into her ear, and she realized she was sobbing into his shoulder. She just…. She couldn’t stop. Wasn’t sure she wanted to stop, when it meant he was holding her so tightly in return. “And I know I should have said something earlier, once I knew for sure, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t…. I didn’t know if we were still connected. After I…died, or part of me died, or whatever. I…I know I lost something that day, but I don’t know what, and—”

“The colours were gone.” That was the simplest way to say it, mumbling it into his shoulder in between sniffs. “That first day, they vanished. I…. They were back the next morning. I didn’t understand it. Sometimes I could see them, sometimes I couldn’t, and sometimes they were… Dulled, like you said. There, but…less.” She quieted, wondering if he wanted to say something. When he didn’t, she admitted, “I didn’t know it was you. I…. I wondered, once it was gone, once I knew I’d had it to lose, but I never knew who….” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I should have known. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you don’t need to cry,” he said, hugging her tighter and starting to rub her back. “I mean, you still found me. Even when you weren’t looking, you found me. Even when I…. Even when I didn’t want you to look because I thought the truth might hurt you. You still found me. You…. Valerie, that’s amazing, you know that, right?”

Her emotions flipped, and she started to giggle. _Giggle_. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d giggled, and now she couldn’t stop. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, I guess.” She pulled back and looked at him, unable to keep the goofy grin from spreading across her face. “After all, even death couldn’t keep us apart.”

This was new and terrifying and confusing and wonderful. She didn’t understand everything, but she didn’t need to. (Oh, she’d ask. She’d definitely ask. But she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, having her soulmate—her _soulmate_ —come back like this. Come back to her, specifically. For them to be given a second chance.)

She’d always liked Danny’s company, even before her fall from grace, even if she hadn’t been able to do anything about Dash’s bullying. And she’d always been happy hanging out with Phantom and had treasured each moment that it was just the two of them. And now….

And now she knew, like he knew, that it could become so much more if they let it. If they worked together, gave it room to grow—gave _themselves_ room to grow—and took care of each other, well…. They’d have everything they would ever need. Everything that mattered, anyway. They’d be able to lean on each other in the rough times. Tease each other and laugh together. Pick each other up and build each other up or knock each other down a peg or two if they really needed it. They’d discover new things and rediscover old, and….

They’d be able to live. To survive. To face life, together. And to love it. Maybe not every second—there always would be trials—but the hard times and finding ways through them would remind them to cherish the moments they had. To cherish each other.

They could be happy if they chose to be. If they chose to work together and to try.

She already knew she wanted to. And, from the way he was smiling back at her, or maybe the way his hands had found hers, she knew he wanted to try, too.

She had thought everything had ended the day colour had been stolen from her world, but it had only been a way of opening her eyes to what she’d missed before.

It had shown her a path, guided her back to her soulmate with each new colour she had begun seeing.

If she’d ignored it, it might have been an end. If she’d continued to think of it that way, her actions—or inaction—would have turned that to truth. She might have lost the colours entirely, breaking off her connection with Danny more effectively than the accident had.

Instead, the colours—and their initial lack—had given them another chance. It had been a new beginning. _Their_ new beginning.

And her world would forever be more vibrant, more vivid, for the opportunity they’d been given together.


End file.
